Hope Abandoned
by Micaiah
Summary: Tag to episode 5.10. Spoilers up to that episode. Has Sam been pushed to his emotional brink? Will Dean be able to find a way to help his brother? And what exactly does Lucifer have planned now that Death has been unleashed?
1. Chapter 1

**You might say the prologue for this was my E/O drabble from last week _Ruminations of an Angel_. I've been wanting to explore Sam's mental state for awhile. I have some ideas to make this a longer story but it could also be just this short one shot. I'll leave it up to you guys if I should continue.**

* * *

Dean knew from the way Castiel was hovering he had something on his mind. Damn if he cared what it was. He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, pouring himself another shot of whiskey with the other and sighed. Best to get it over with. He wandered out toward Bobby's back porch. He could sense Castiel following him.

Once outside Dean rounded on the angel, "What the hell do you want from me, Cas? I'm not exactly in the mood for conversation."

"Dean, I know tonight didn't go the way we had planned."

"Didn't go the way we had planned? Is that what you call it, Cas? Is it just a minor setback to you?" Dean hurled the shot glass against the side of the house. He had a moment of satisfaction as the angel jumped out of the way of splintering glass. "I lost two members of my family tonight!"

"I did not know Jo and Ellen were….."

"Don't you say their names! Don't you even…..just don't. They were my family! As close as I'll ever have and I just walked away while they….while they……I just walked away."

Dean turned his back on Cas and drew in great gulping breaths. He knew he couldn't do this now….couldn't fall apart but God, it was Ellen….and Jo. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to find Castiel in his personal space again, finding that for once it didn't matter, was actually comforting.

"I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean nodded. "I know. It's just…..I feel like we can never win, you know? I mean, what are we supposed to do now?"

"I think right now we need to focus on Sam."

"What do you mean?" Dean's heart tripped in his chest. "Is there something else I don't know about my brother? Is there some other secret just waiting to spring itself on us because quite honestly, I think I might run screaming into the woods if there is."

"No secrets, Dean, but Sam is emotionally wrung out."

"Aren't we all?"

"Not like this. I can feel the despair coming from him. He's abandoned all hope."

"What does that mean?" Dean's mouth was dry.

"For us, it could mean the end."

"No." Dean shook his head in denial. "He'll never say yes."

"He's very vulnerable right now, Dean."

"No, he'll be fine." Dean headed back into the house, suddenly anxious to check on his little brother.

He found Sam still sitting by the fire with Bobby. Sam's head was in the older hunter's lap and both appeared to be dozing. Dean knelt in front of his brother, swept back the hair that had fallen into Sam's face and saw that he wasn't sleeping. Sam's eyes had a faraway, glassy look to them.

"Sammy, hey, you okay, bro?" Dean couldn't control the hammering of his heart. Sam had always been the strong one but what if he had no strength left? His brother had been hit with blow after blow in the last few months and Dean hadn't taken the time to wonder what it was doing to him. He was too caught up in the damn apocalypse. Now the look in his brother's eyes scared him.

"Sammy? Please, Sammy. Look at me."

Sam's eyes slowly came into focus and tears began to roll down his cheeks.

"It's okay, Sammy." Dean thumbed tears from his brother's face.

"Everybody dies," Sam whispered. "Everybody dies."

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. "Not me, Sammy. I'm right here."

Then the tears came in a raging torrent. Dean pulled Sam from Bobby's lap and held him in his own. Sam clutched at his brother, great shuddering sobs racking his body. Dean thought the last time he'd seen Sam cry like this was after Jessica had died. Sam had collapsed into his brother's arms the night before the funeral and now, just as he had done then, Dean offered the only comfort he had.

"I got you, Sammy. I got you."

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**Continue or no?? **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and put this story on alert!**

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Sam forced his eyes open a fraction of an inch and immediately noticed two things. One, his brother was no longer lying next to him and two, the sun was glaring at him through the bedroom window. He rolled away from the mocking radiance of the sun, burying himself beneath a mound of blankets.

Sam vaguely remembered Dean helping him to bed last night while Castiel lingered close by, looking as if he wanted to help but unsure how. Sam cringed when he recalled clinging to Dean's neck, not wanting to let go of his brother and Dean finally relenting and lying down beside him.

Hot tears spilled from Sam's eyes as he remembered the devastated look on Dean's face after the explosion last night, the tender way his brother kissed Jo good-bye, the strength and determination on Ellen's face as she refused to leave her only daughter.

_My fault, my fault, my fault. I'm sorry, oh god, I'm so sorry._

Sam gave a strangled laugh. For years he had prayed in a similar way. Always blaming himself. It was his fault his mom died, his fault his father was so unhappy, his fault Jess died, his fault his brother went to hell. His fault, his fault, always his fault. He used to believe those prayers were heard by a higher power, someone who could give him comfort. Now he knew better. There was no higher power who would listen to Sam Winchester, the chosen vessel of Lucifer. The thought that his whole life had only been for that one purpose was more than he could bear.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice sounded tired.

Sam struggled to control the trembling of his body. Better to just lay here, pretend to be asleep. Dean wouldn't have to look at the constant source of his pain.

"Sammy?" Closer this time, a hand on his shoulder.

"Mmmm?" He shifted slightly as if trying to wake.

"You hungry?"

Sam felt the bed give under Dean's weight as he sat on the edge. "Dude, Bobby's cooking breakfast. You know he's the only one who can ever fix your eggs the way you like them."

Sam gave what he hoped sounded like a negative reply and rolled away from his brother while every instinct in his body was yelling at him to do the opposite. He wanted nothing more right now than to feel his brother's arms around him, telling him everything would be alright but he knew that was only a fairy tale. Those were the only stories where everyone had a happy ending. Sam could see no way for this story to end happily ever after.

* * *

"He coming?" Bobby emptied eggs onto two plates as Dean entered the kitchen.

Dean shook his head and sank wearily into a chair. Bobby plopped the plate down in front of him but Dean pushed it away.

"I'm sorry, Bobby. I'm just not hungry."

"Eat it anyway."

Dean watched as Bobby moved the food around on his own plate but nothing ever touched his lips. When Bobby looked up, Dean quirked his eyebrow.

"Well, damn it, how am I supposed to eat with you staring at me?" Bobby gathered up both plates and wheeled over to the sink with them.

"I'm worried about Sam, Bobby." He toyed with the frayed edge of his shirt sleeve. "Cas said he's emotionally wrung out, vulnerable."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"That he could be an easy target for Lucifer. Cas seems to think he might say yes."

"What do you think?"

Dean sighed. "Truthfully, I don't know. I think Sam would rather die than say yes to Lucifer but he's been through so much, Bobby…..he's just….I mean, I don't know how much more he can take. What if he says yes just to end it?"

The older hunter squirmed in his chair.

"What?"

Bobby shook his head.

"Come on, Bobby," demanded Dean. "I know when you have something on your mind. Just say it."

"My concern is, if Sam says yes, what are you going to say? There. I said it. You happy now?"

Dean shook his head. He couldn't remember being anything close to happy in a very long time.

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**I'd love to hear what you think! Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the long wait between updates. Between the holidays, my daughter's college graduation and my mother falling and breaking her hip it's been quite a madhouse around here. I'll try to do better. :)**

**Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing and putting this story on alert. Hope you continue to like it.**

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After their failed attempt at a late breakfast, Dean and Bobby relocated to Bobby's den to do some research. From what they had seen on the recent newscasts, there was no doubt Lucifer had succeeded in bringing forth Death but they had no idea what that meant for them.

Dean plucked a book from the ancient pile Bobby dumped onto the desk, blew off a fine layer of dust and settled into the lumpy couch. He tried focusing on the words but soon came to realize he was reading the same sentence over and over. How was he supposed to concentrate after what had happened last night? Jo and Ellen were dead.

He remembered how his first meeting with Jo happened with him at the wrong end of a shotgun. Damn, but she had packed a hell of a punch too. He smiled faintly at the memory. If things had only been different when they'd first met, if he hadn't been grieving over his father….eh, who was he kidding? They were hunters. There was never going to be any other life but that.

Bobby was engrossed in a tome of some sorts and Dean tried once more to focus on the book in his hands. It was only a few moments later when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He laid the book aside as Sam appeared in the doorway.

Sam rubbed his eyes sleepily, his large feet peeking out from beneath the pajama bottoms he was wearing. Dean suddenly remembered a three year old Sammy, standing in the same doorway, teddy bear dangling from one hand.

_Uncle Bobby, fix me some eggies, pwease._

Dean swallowed hard, his age old mantra marching through his head: be strong for Sammy, gotta be strong for Sammy.

"Hey, kiddo." Bobby closed his book and wheeled across the room. "You ready to eat something?"

Sam's stomach gave an audible growl and he grinned sheepishly. "I think that means yes."

"Coming right up." Bobby disappeared into the kitchen.

Sam continued to stand in the doorway, fidgeting.

"Did you finally get some rest?" Dean was unsure of what to say, didn't know if they should talk about last night or not. He decided to leave the decision up to his brother.

"Yeah, I got some." Sam's eyes wavered and Dean knew he was lying.

"Better get in here, boys," Bobby yelled from the kitchen. "I ain't waiting on you."

"You heard the man," said Dean. He found that his stomach was also rumbling and he thought maybe now he could stand to eat a bite or two.

Dean followed his brother into the kitchen. Sam kept his head ducked, the way he always did when he was feeling ashamed or even worse, unworthy to look at another human being. Dean silently cursed everything he could think of including their damn Winchester luck. Why the hell did they have to be responsible for the whole freaking world?

"Thanks Bobby," Sam said quietly as Bobby heaped a pile of pancakes on his plate.

"You're welcome, son." He gazed at the bowed head until Sam finally looked up. Bobby smiled affectionately at him and Sam managed a small grin of his own.

"Okay, then. Now that you've made everyone in the room uncomfortable, can we eat?"

Bobby huffed. "Excuse me, princess."

Dean stiffened at the words, remembering the last time Bobby had addressed him that way. Dean had been wallowing in self pity, wondering if Sam still qualified as being human, if he was even his brother. Watching Sam dig into his pancakes, glancing up through his shaggy hair to watch the interaction between him and Bobby, Dean's heart twisted at the thought. Sam was always going to be his brother, no matter what.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam's forehead was wrinkled in concern.

"Yeah, just thinking, you know?" He gave Bobby a frown.

"What about?"

"Our next move. I mean, what do we do now?"

"I've been thinking about that, Dean." Sam laid his fork down and folded his hands in his lap. "I think I've come up with the solution."

"Okay, I'd like to hear it because I'm coming up with bupkis."

"We say yes."

"Like hell!" roared Bobby.

"Sammy, I'm not saying yes and being some angel's bitch and neither are you."

Sam jumped up from the table, knocking a bottle of syrup to the floor. "Why? What good is it going to do to keep saying no? Everything we've tried has failed! I can't keep doing this, Dean. I can't."

"Sammy…."

"I just want it to be over, Dean." Sam's face was pleading with those damn puppy dog eyes he'd never been able to resist.

"No, Sammy." He rose from his seat, crossing to where his brother stood. "Those eyes aren't going to work on me this time. We are NOT giving in to these bastards. Not ever. Do you understand me?"

Tears began to leak from Sam's eyes. "I don't know what to do anymore. I don't….I can't….." He gestured helplessly.

"You keep saying no, you hear me?" Dean grasped his brother's face in his hands, forcing him to meet his eyes. "You promise me, Sammy. Promise me you'll keep saying no."

"Listen to your brother, Sam." Dean had almost forgotten about Bobby.

Sam closed his eyes, nodding.

"Is that a promise?"

"Yeah, Dean. It's a promise."

Sam's voice was weary, bringing a lump to Dean's throat. Nobody should have to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders, especially not his little brother.


	4. Chapter 4

**Continued thanks to everyone for reviewing. I really like reading what you have to say.**

* * *

Sam opened his eyes, trying to remember where he was.

_Bobby's._

He grimaced as he recalled the spectacle in the kitchen and afterwards Dean wearily tucking him back into bed. His eyes strayed to the empty chair parked beside his bed. Dean had been slumped there dozing before Sam had finally drifted off to sleep. He knew he had to snap out of this mood somehow, at least for his brother's sake.

"Sam! Are you finally awake?"

Sam's blood froze. He knew that voice. He'd heard it less than 48 hours ago, in a dark field in Carthage, Missouri.

_No! He can't be here!_

Sam sat up slowly to find Lucifer perched at the foot of his bed.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He was glad that at least his voice sounded calm because he was screaming inside.

"Oh, I think you know that, Sam. I came to claim my vessel." He motioned to the body he was in. "Nick is really wearing thin around the edges and I'm tired of waiting."

"I will never say yes, you son of a bitch."

"I can be very persuasive, Sam." Lucifer gave him a wicked smile. "Very persuasive."

"There is nothing you can say that will………….." Sam cut off in mid-sentence as Dean was dragged into the room and unceremoniously thrown to the floor by two demons. Blood flowed from a wound at his temple and he appeared to be unconscious.

Sam scrambled from the bed, kneeling at his brother's side. "What did you do to him?"

"It's more like what have you done to him."

"What do you mean?" Sam felt for his brother's pulse and found it, weak but steady.

"Have you ever considered what Dean's life would have been like without you in it?"

Lucifer rose from the bed and circled the room like a vulture. Sam tried to keep his eyes on the angel, while keeping his own body between Lucifer and Dean.

"You have, haven't you?" Lucifer continued without waiting for an answer from his trapped prey. "Don't you think Dean could have been happy if he hadn't spent a lifetime looking out for his little brother? The little brother who betrayed him?"

"Shut up!"

"What?" Lucifer feigned innocence. "Does the truth hurt, Sammy? You trusted a demon instead of the brother who had protected you and took care of you his whole life."

"I know." Sam had to force the words from his mouth. He didn't need reminding from Lucifer or anyone else how badly he had screwed up, how much he had hurt the one person who had always been there for him, who would always be there for him no matter what.

"I can give Dean that life, Sam." Lucifer templed his fingers and looked expectantly at him.

"W-what are you saying?"

Dean stirred beside him and Sam slipped his hand into his brother's.

"I can give Dean a happy life, full of good memories, with a mother and father and a brother who loves him. Not one who turns his back on him the first chance he gets. All you have to do is say yes, Sam, and Dean will have the most normal, happy life in existence."

"No, you're lying. If I say yes, the world will come to an end. There won't be any life for anyone." Sam felt Dean squeeze his hand.

"Who told you that? Castiel? Do you think he really knows how this thing is going to go down? Haven't his facts been screwed up from the start?"

Sam furrowed his brow, trying to think, his eyes shifted to Dean's semi-conscious form.

_What if it's true? What if Dean can have a normal life? One without all the heartache? One without me?_

As if he could read his brother's thoughts Dean whispered, "No, Sammy."

Sam held on to his brother's hand, begging him with his eyes to understand. He had to do this. He could finally do something for Dean, something that would make everything Dean had done for him worth it. Tears began to spill down his face. He looked at Lucifer, ready to accept his role. Not of a vessel but as a good brother, a protector, something he had never been.

Dean grasped the front of Sam's shirt, pulling himself up to where he could look into his brother's eyes. "You promised me, Sammy. Please, please don't betray me again."

"Sam?" Lucifer sounded annoyed. "What's it going to be?"

Sam raised his head, looking the devil in the eye. "Go to hell."

Sam barely had time to see the look of sheer gratitude on Dean's face before Lucifer raised his hand and Dean was flung across the room. He hit the wall with a resounding thud, sliding bonelessly to the floor.

"I offered life for him, Sam. But you gave him death."

Sam began to scream.

* * *

Dean was jerked out of a doze by the sound of Sam screaming.

"Sam!"

Dean jumped up from the chair, grabbing his flailing brother by the shoulders, narrowly avoiding being hit in the process.

"Sammy, wake up!"

Dean could hear Bobby hollering his concern from the first floor.

"Call Cas, Bobby!"

Sam continued to scream and Dean slapped him hard across the face. Finally Sam's eyes opened and Dean saw stark terror there.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, it's me, Sammy. What the hell…."

"Dean? Dean?" Sam grabbed Dean's face in his hands and continued to repeat his name over and over, as if he didn't believe what he was seeing.

"It's me, Sammy. It's really me." He grasped his brother's hands in his own. "God, Sammy, what did you dream?"

Sam's cries turned into a despairing wail. He burrowed his head into his brother's chest as if trying to crawl inside of him. Dean held onto him tightly, blinking back tears.

Castiel appeared in the doorway and Dean almost shouted in relief.

"Bobby called me." To the point, as usual.

"Can you make him sleep?" Dean struggled to hold on to Sam, who continued to grasp at him desperately.

"What do you mean?"

"Geez, Cas. Can you freaking make him sleep? Without dreaming?"

"Yes, I….."

"Do it! Now!"

Castiel pressed a finger to Sam's head and Sam went limp in Dean's arms. Dean held him, watching his brother's chest rise and fall, the lines disappearing from his face as he fell into a relaxed sleep.

Dean glanced up to find that somehow Bobby had made his way up the stairs.

"I hitched a ride." Bobby motioned toward the angel. "What happened?"

"I don't know, Bobby. He just woke up screaming. He must have had some sort of dream."

"Helluva dream," muttered Bobby.

"Lucifer's trying to get to him," said Castiel.

"How do you know?" Bobby wheeled his way over to the bed and rested a calloused hand against Sam's pale cheek.

"Because that's what he does." Castiel stepped over to the window, gazing out at the dark night. "I told you Sam is vulnerable. Now is when Lucifer will try his hardest."

"Then we just have to make sure Sam has a dreamless sleep every night."

"It's not that simple," said Castiel.

"Why the hell not?" asked Bobby.

"I can't do that to him indefinitely. Eventually it will damage him."

Dean clutched his little brother close to him, refusing to let him go, thinking stubbornly that he could somehow protect him as long as he held on. He looked at Bobby, the closest thing he had to a father, and began to cry.

"I don't know what to do, Bobby," he sobbed helplessly. "I don't know what to do."


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks to those of you who are hanging in there with this story. I appreciate all the reviews!**

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Dean woke up in the same position he had fallen asleep, his arms wrapped tightly around his little brother. Sam had curled toward him, his head tucked beneath Dean's chin, one hand fisted in his shirt. Dean propped up on his elbow, watching his brother sleep. Sam appeared perfectly relaxed, sleeping the sleep of the innocent but Dean knew that was only thanks to Cas.

"Sammy, what are you doing to yourself?" whispered Dean.

"I have to wake him soon."

Dean jumped, automatically reaching for a weapon although none appeared to be within reach. He rolled over to see Castiel standing by the door.

"Geez, Cas, could you give a guy some warning before you sneak up on him? I almost had a heart attack."

"I didn't sneak. I've been here."

Dean rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "What do you mean, you've been here?"

"I've been here since last night."

"You've been standing there since last night? Well, that's not creepy at all, Cas. Did you see anything interesting?"

Dean crawled from the bed, tucking the blanket tightly around Sam.

"Sam is not the only one having nightmares."

"Yeah, well, I'm not the one waking up screaming my freaking head off so concentrate on the one we need to be worrying about."

Castiel looked as if he might say something else so Dean cut him off. "Tell me again why you can't do that to him every night?"

"It's not natural, Dean. I don't have as much power as I once had but it's still enough to damage Sam's mind if I keep doing that to him."

"So, the alternative is to let him slowly drive himself crazy because it's so much better to damage his mind that way?"

"Dean, I'm….."

"Yeah, I know. You're sorry. We're all sorry. In the meantime my brother is suffering, Cas. I'm just……" Dean gave a frustrated sigh. "I'm kinda at a loss on what to do here."

"Bobby has been doing some research."

"And?"

Castiel shook his head and Dean turned away. There had to be some way to keep Lucifer out of Sam's head. He couldn't just sit by and watch his brother lose his mind….or worse.

All his life he had been Sam's protector and now when Sam needed him the most there was nothing he could do. He had never felt so helpless….not even when Sam had died. At least then there had been something he could do, even though now he was beginning to realize his selfish choices had put Sam where he was today.

_Sammy, I'm so sorry._

"I have to wake him, Dean."

Dean rubbed his hand across his face. "Yeah, okay, whatever."

Dean perched on the edge of the bed, waiting for Sam to wake, unsure of what to expect. When Castiel touched Sam's forehead, his eyes eyes flew open, a bewildered look on his face. He clamped his hand over his mouth, sprang from the bed and darted down the hall.

Dean glanced at Cas. "Is that normal?"

"Yes. It's similar to what you humans call a hangover."

"Great. Too much angel juice not only makes you lose your mind, it also makes you lose your lunch, breakfast…..whatever."

Dean realized he couldn't remember the last time Sam had eaten. Had he had anything yesterday morning or had he gotten upset before he'd had a chance to eat? God, yesterday seemed like so long ago. Had it only been two days since the bottom had fallen out of their world? It was funny how time had a way of slowing down when tragedy struck, how everything seemed to happen in slow motion and made you relive every excruciating detail no matter how much you wanted to forget. A hand on Dean's arm brought him out of his reverie.

"We'll find something, Dean." Dean could see the pain he felt reflected in Castiel's piercing blue eyes. "We'll find something to help Sam. I promise."

* * *

Sam hung his head over the toilet, feeling as if he'd just thrown up everything inside him including his stomach. He groped blindly for a towel to wipe his mouth when he felt a hand on his back and a wet washcloth was pressed into his hand.

"Easy there, Sammy."

Sam slumped to the floor, Dean's hand never breaking contact. Sam covered his face with the washcloth and leaned his head back against the tub. He wished Dean would just go away. He didn't want his brother watching him, hovering over him like he was an invalid. He didn't deserve Dean's pity or anything else his brother had to offer but when Dean flopped down beside him, he couldn't stop himself from leaning toward his brother for support. The tears he could no longer seem to hold at bay began to spill from his eyes as soon as he felt the warmth of his brother's shoulder. He made a big production out of scrubbing his face with the washcloth but when his eyes were dry again and he looked at his brother, he knew Dean wasn't fooled.

"We'll figure something out, Sammy." Dean's could tell a good lie but he couldn't hide the uncertainty in his eyes.

Sam just nodded. He had already figured something out. He had promised Dean he wouldn't say yes but he hadn't promised him anything else. If Castiel and Bobby couldn't figure out a way to keep Lucifer out of his head, then Sam had ideas of his own.

* * *

Dean spent the next week helping Bobby build a lift that would carry him to the upper floor of his home. It wasn't lost on Dean or Sam that the only reason he was concerned with this was because of them.

Dean didn't want to admit it but working on the lift was actually therapeutic for him. It allowed him to pummel offending pieces of metal or wood and yell out a stream of curses whenever he felt the need. Unfortunately he felt the need quite a bit.

When Sam wasn't huddled under the blankets feigning sleep, he was wandering around the junkyard in the frigid winter air, keeping his distance from Dean and Bobby as much as possible. He didn't realize Dean had Castiel watching his every move.

Castiel had put his quest for God on hold in order to help with Sam. Dean didn't want to admit it, but he found it comforting to know the angel was watching over his brother, just like his mother had always told him angels were watching over them. When they weren't working on the lift, Bobby and Dean were researching, looking for anything that would keep Sam from dreaming, anything to keep him from losing his mind. Because that's what Dean was afraid of. He was afraid his brother was actually going to drive himself insane and he knew if Sam did that, he would be lost to him forever. They were still concerned with Lucifer's plans for Death but they just didn't have time to worry with that. Not with Sam's sanity on the line.

Dean was staring out at Bobby's backyard when he felt a presence at this back. He turned to find Castiel standing there.

"You're getting better about the personal space, Cas. Another person can _almost _fit between us."

"Sorry."

Dean sighed, stepping away from the angel. "Where's Sam?"

"In his room, pretending to sleep."

"How many more times can you help him sleep, Cas?"

"Not enough."

"Could you be more vague?" Dean lowered himself into one of the kitchen chairs. _God, could I be more tired?_

Bobby came wheeling into the room, faster than Dean had ever seen him move since being in the wheelchair, a couple of books perched precariously in his lap.

"I think I've got something." Bobby shoved one of the books at Dean.

"What?" Dean glanced at the opened page. "Come on, Bobby. If this is a joke, it's not funny."

"I wouldn't joke about this." Bobby's face was dead serious.

Dean offered the book to Castiel, who peered at it curiously. "What is that?"

"It's a freaking dreamcatcher!" Dean tossed the book onto the table. "Those things don't work, Bobby. They're cheap souvenirs, sold just about anywhere you look. I've got one hanging in the trunk of the car. Damn, if I can remember where I got it but it sure as hell doesn't do anything except hang there."

Dean registered the hurt in Bobby's eyes but it didn't stop the older man from carrying on with his train of thought. "Dean, I have pored through every book I own and I think the answer has been right under our noses all along. We've been over thinking it, trying to find some kind of angel dream repellant. This is the only thing I can come up with."

"This dreamcatcher, what is it?" Castiel had picked the book up from the table, flipping through the pages.

"Most of them are what Dean said. Cheap souvenirs. But the Chippewa tribe believed in their power. If we can get one made by a real Chippewa medicine man I think it might work." Bobby gave Dean a hard look. "It's worth a shot."

Dean rubbed both hands over his face. "I know, Bobby, it's just…..I don't want to get his hopes up. Hell, I don't want to get my hopes up. What if it doesn't work?"

"I think the expression you use is: we'll cross that bridge when we come to it or maybe it's, we're up the creek without a paddle?"

Dean and Bobby both stared at Castiel, then glanced at each other. Bobby snorted and Dean actually laughed. _And God, that felt good._

But in the back of his mind Dean was thinking Castiel was probably right. They would cross that bridge when they came to it and more than likely find out they were way up a creek with no hopes of finding a paddle.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean was climbing the walls. Not literally, at least not yet, but Bobby could see that being cooped up was starting to wear on the eldest Winchester. Since finishing the lift, the only outlet Dean had found for venting his frustration was target practice in the back yard and Bobby had a sneaking suspicion Dean was quickly running out of ammo.

It had been two days since Castiel left in search of the dreamcatcher. They had debated on whether or not to even tell Sam about their hopes. Finally, Dean decided there had been enough secrets between him and his brother to last a lifetime and he didn't want to have any more. For all the debating they'd done, Sam appeared only mildly interested in their plan. Bobby was worried that Sam had plans of his own.

Bobby found Dean sitting on the back porch, watching his brother, who was drifting between the junk cars like some kind of restless spirit. The kid was starting to look like one too. His face was pale and gaunt. Bobby couldn't remember him eating more than three bites at one meal since he'd been there.

_Damn angels and their apocalypse. What the hell are they doing to my boys?_

"Need some help?" Dean turned toward him as he tried to maneuver his way through the back door.

"Naw, dammit, I've got it." He scraped his knuckles on the narrow door frame but managed to force his way onto the porch.

Dean gave him an amused grin and Bobby scowled in return.

"I need you to run an errand for me." He handed Dean the list he had come up with. He didn't need one damn item on it but he knew if Dean didn't get out for awhile he would finally blow a gasket.

Dean studied the list, cocking an eyebrow. "What the hell do you need razors for?"

_Did I really put that on there? _"Gimme that."

Bobby ran down the scrawled list and saw that he had indeed listed razors as an item he needed, right underneath fabric softener. Neither of which he had used since his wife died.

"I thought you and Sam might need them," he said gruffly. "Idjit."

"Bobby, I know what you're trying to do. You don't really need this stuff."

"Yes, I do. Now get off your ass and go get them for me."

Dean's eyes strayed to the yard. Sam sat on a junker, idly tossing stones against another car's bumper.

"I can't leave him, Bobby."

"It's only for an hour or so, Dean. I'll keep an eye on him."

Dean nodded. He knew he needed a break just as well as Bobby did but he still called out to his brother, "Hey, Sammy. I'm gonna run an errand for Bobby. You want to come?"

Sam shuffled across the yard, climbing the steps leading up the back porch. "You're going out?"

"Just for a little while."

Sam's chin began to tremble.

"It's okay, Sammy." Dean rested his hand on his brother's arm. "You can come with me."

"I'm sorry, Dean." Sam twisted out of his brother's grasp, retreating into the house.

Dean sighed heavily.

"It's okay, Dean." Bobby waved him away. "I've got him."

"Yeah, okay." His brow was furrowed, but he shook it off and headed toward the Impala.

Looking back later, Bobby knew Dean had picked up on something in Sam's demeanor, something that Bobby had missed and if his legs had been working he would have kicked his own ass. Sam hadn't been apologizing for what he'd already done, he was apologizing for what he was about to do.

* * *

Sam locked himself in the upstairs bathroom, knowing it would take awhile for anyone to find him and by then it would be too late. He laid Ruby's demon killing knife on the sink and glanced at himself in the mirror. He hated the man looking back at him. Lank hair hung in his tear-filled eyes, eyes that had once turned black because of the evil inside of him.

He had tried to fight it, tried to live a normal life but nothing about him had ever been normal. Everyone he'd ever loved had died because of him. Mom, Dad, Jess, and even Dean. Dean had died and went to Hell for a brother who betrayed him. Dean had done everything for him and in return Sam had brought about the destruction of mankind. What the hell kind of brother was he?

_Worthless._

He removed a note from his pocket, placing it by the sink. It was simple and to the point: _I'm sorry. It's better this way._

He'd thought long and hard about his decision the past couple of nights. Lucifer had told him if he tried to kill himself he would only be brought back to life but Sam didn't believe him. After all, Lucifer was the prince of lies. How could Lucifer resurrect him if he didn't even know where he was? The Enochian sigils were keeping him hidden from every angel in the universe. This had to work. It was the only thing that had kept him from going completely off the deep end. He couldn't keep listening to Lucifer, night after night, beckoning him to say yes and embrace his destiny. He could end it all today, right every wrong, and keep his brother from having to die for him again.

Sam picked up the knife, wondering where Ruby had gotten it. She'd never told him the secret of her demon killing weapon but he knew, without a doubt, this was the instrument he had to use to end his life. He had the demon blood, he deserved to die like the monster he was.

Clutching the knife is his right hand, Sam made the cut down his left arm, from wrist to elbow, tracing the scar left by the ghouls a lifetime ago. He gasped at the pain, falling to his knees. He tried to grip the knife in his left hand to repeat the process on the opposite arm but found he couldn't. Blood poured from his arm as he sunk to the floor. He tried for the knife once more, then let his arm fall limply at his side.

_Doesn't matter. Won't be long now._

And for the first time in days, Sam Winchester smiled.

* * *

Bobby was in the kitchen when he heard a loud crash upstairs followed by scream.

_What the hell?_

"Sam!"

Bobby wheeled to the bottom of the stairs, calling Sam's name. The only response was the sound of breaking glass.

He hadn't quite mastered the art of working the lift yet but he scrambled from his chair as fast as he could manage and started upward, urging the lift to go faster. At the top of the stairs he fumbled with the wheelchair stationed there, cursing as it took him longer to get settled into it than he thought it should.

The demolition party in the bathroom had grown quiet. Bobby knocked on the door, tried the knob and found it locked.

"Sam? You in there?"

_What a stupid question._

"Sam, open this door or I'm breaking it down."

_And how the hell do you think you're going to do that?_

Bobby rolled down to the hall closet, opened the door and found the large piece of iron pipe he kept hidden away right next to a .32 Smith and Wesson, just in case he was ever caught on the second floor without a weapon.

Wheeling back to the bathroom, he hefted the pipe in both hands, putting all the strength he had into ramming it against the door. The door swung inward after three tries. Bobby dropped the pipe, staring aghast at the ruined bathroom. He could hear sobbing from inside.

"Sam?" Bobby couldn't squeeze his chair into the room. He peered around the door frame and saw Sam huddled in the far corner, between the shower and the toilet, his blood soaked arms wrapped around his head. "Oh, God, kid. What have you done?"

Sam only sobbed harder, rocking back and forth, his hands clamped tightly into his hair as if he might actually pull it out.

"I'm coming to get you, boy. Just hang on."

Bobby lowered himself from the chair, his legs thudding uselessly against the tile. Slowly, he dragged himself across the bloody floor, wincing as the palm of his hands ground against the broken glass littering the room. When he reached the tub, he rested his back against it, holding his arms out toward Sam. Sam was nestled too far in the corner for Bobby to pull him out. Sam was going to have to meet him halfway, if he was even able.

"Come here, kid."

Sam remained where he was.

"Please, kid. Come to Uncle Bobby."

_Aw, geez, he's not two years old._

But Sam's head moved and he looked up through matted bangs, eyes red-rimmed and puffy, tears streaming down his face.

Bobby motioned with his hands and Sam was suddenly in his arms, weeping uncontrollably, mumbling incoherently. Bobby examined the boy's arms and saw ugly gashes running the length of each one, as if a bad wound was healing. He could see no open wounds even though Sam was drenched in blood. Bobby wrapped his arms around the youngest Winchester and held him tight.

"What happened, Sam?"

Sam struggled to talk, hiccupping against Bobby's chest, sucking in great gasps of air. "I….had…..to….try."

Bobby cupped the boy's face in his hands, searching his eyes. "Had to try what, Sam?"

Sam whimpered, burying his face against Bobby, hot tears scalding Bobby's neck as it dawned on him what Sam had done. His eyes searched the demolished room until he found what he was looking for. Next to the knife that had once belonged to Ruby, he saw a blood-spattered note. He could just make out the message written there.

"Sweet Jesus." Bobby pressed his face against the top of Sam's head, blinking back tears.

Bobby lost track of how long he sat there cradling Sam in his arms but when he finally glanced up Castiel was standing in the door, a dreamcatcher in his hand, a look of confusion on his face.

"What are you staring at, you idjit? Get me the hell off of this floor!"


	7. Chapter 7

**I have struggled immensely with this chapter so while I don't feel it's the best thing I've ever written, I feel it's the best I could do with this part of the story. Hope you guys continue to hang in there and thanks to those of you who are leaving reviews. They are all greatly appreciated.**

* * *

Dean knew something was wrong as soon as he pulled the Impala up in Bobby's front yard. Hell, he'd known it before he left. The whole time he was running Bobby's pointless errand he hadn't been able to shake the ominous feeling he'd gotten when Sam had apologized. Castiel was waiting for him on the porch.

"Where's Sam?" Dean pounded up the stairs, trying to push his way through the front door but Castiel was an unmovable force.

"Sam is with Bobby."

Dean tried again to shoulder his way past the angel but Castiel stood his ground.

"Cas, let me go."

"Sam is fine."

"Then what the hell is going on?"

"We have to talk."

"Okay, I'm starting to get that." He was also starting to get annoyed.

"You should….." Castiel steered Dean toward the lone chair on Bobby's porch. "….sit."

"Dammit, Cas. I don't want to sit." He shrugged away from the angel's grasp.

"Sam is with Bobby."

"You said that already, Cas. Could you please get to the point? You're freaking me out."

Dean's heart was thudding against his chest. Whatever Cas had to say, it wasn't good. That much Dean had figured out but what the hell had happened while he was gone? Dean realized whatever it was, the angel was having a hard time putting it into words.

"Your brother tried to take his life."

"What?"

"He used Ruby's knife and tried to end his life."

Dean's knees buckled as his mind fully digested the meaning of the words.

"Sammy?"

Castiel seized him by the arms, guiding him to the chair. Dean sank down, searching Castiel's face for answers.

"He's alive, Dean. Lucifer wasn't lying. He's not going to let Sam die."

"Who knew I'd ever have a reason to be thankful for the devil." He tried to give a sarcastic laugh but it dissolved into a sob.

"Dean, he's al—"

Dean shot up from the chair, tears giving way to insurmountable anger. "DON'T TELL ME HE'S ALRIGHT!"

Dean slung the chair off the edge of the porch, casting his eyes about for something to throw a punch at, anything to take the pain from his heart. Sam was far from alright and Dean was beginning to wonder if being alright was even a possibility anymore. He had made the kid promise not to surrender to Lucifer. He'd never dreamed Sam would be desperate enough to try and kill himself.

"Do you wish to hit me?"

"Yes! I mean, no…." Dean's fists were clenched tight, knuckles turning white. "No, I just…..even if I did, I'd only break my hand."

"I will let down my guard if it will ease your pain."

Dean shook his head, his anger dissipating at Castiel's strange but comforting offer.

"I just want to see Sam."

* * *

Dean paused at the bathroom door before heading to Sam's room. He swallowed hard, surveying the damage.

_God, Sammy, what were you thinking?_

And that was the thing, wasn't it? He really had no idea what Sam was thinking. About anything. Sam, the one who loved to analyze everything and talk it to death, was telling him zip, nada, nothing. Ever since the night Jo and Ellen died Sam had been slowly retreating into his own little world. That was going to stop tonight.

As he turned away he spied a piece of paper lying on the floor. Bending to pick it up, his heart twisted at the words written there.

_It's not better this way, Sammy. Not ever._

He ran a weary hand over his face, pushing his own raw emotions into the recesses of his mind. He didn't have time to dwell on how he felt, how much it hurt to think of life without his brother. He had to get through to Sam.

_Game face on._

He found Sam sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into space. Bobby was watching him silently from across the room. Dean saw a shadow of guilt cross Bobby's face.

"Dean, I'm sorry. It's my…."

Dean held up his hand. "Bobby, you didn't know."

"But you did, didn't you?"

"I knew something was off, just not this, not…." Dean knelt down in front of his brother. "Sammy, what were you thinking?"

Sam drew a deep breath, turning dark, sorrowful eyes toward him. "How many times do you think I can say no, Dean?"

"As many as it takes, Sam. What alternatives do we have?"

Sam gave a bitter laugh. "Evidently none."

Sam held out his arms for Dean to examine. Large red welts ran down the length of each.

"I cut myself….over and over." Sam's hands were trembling. "Each time they healed. No matter how deep I cut, no matter how savagely I did it. I can't die, Dean. He's not going to let me die."

"Sammy, you have to talk to me." Dean clutched his brother's hands. "You have to tell me what's going on inside that freaky head of yours, okay?"

Sam pulled away, moving to stand beside the window. Dean could see the weariness etched into his brother's face, the hopelessness in his stance.

"Your brother wants to help you, Sam," said Bobby quietly. "We all do."

"Nobody can help me, Bobby." Tears traced a path down his face. "I don't deserve it."

"Sammy…."

"No matter what I do, Dean, I have to live with the fact that I started all this. All these people that keep dying? It's because of me. I did this."

Dean's first instinct was to tell him to stop saying those things because he knew better than anyone how all this had started and it certainly hadn't been because of Sam. But he also knew this was what Sam needed. Sam had been bottling his guilt for too long. It was time to let go.

"I wouldn't listen to you, Dean. I was tired of always being the little brother. I thought I had learned to take care of myself when you were gone. I thought I could prove I was just as good a hunter as you but all I did was prove what an arrogant, stupid bastard I am."

Bobby reached out, touching his arm but Sam jerked away.

"I don't want your pity, Bobby. I just want…….I just….." Sam looked at them helplessly.

"What do you want, Sammy?"

Sam drew a deep breath and Dean saw a determined gleam creep into his brother's eye. "I want to keep Lucifer out of my freaking head. I want just one night's sleep where I don't wake up screaming because I'm afraid I've said yes in my dreams."

Bobby gave a grim smile. "I think we might be able to help you with that."

* * *

"Do you really think this will work?" Sam studied the dreamcatcher Castiel had hung over the bed.

"I watched as the medicine man made it. If it doesn't work, nothing will."

"Real comforting there, Cas." Dean clapped a hand on the angel's shoulder.

"Thank you."

Dean rolled his eyes. "That was sar---nope, you know what? Never mind."

Sam managed a smile at the confused look on the angel's face but quickly sobered at the thought of trying to sleep. He was so utterly exhausted but at the same time he was terrified the dreamcatcher wouldn't work. This was his last hope because he knew it was only a matter of time before Lucifer wore his defenses down.

Dean must have read the doubt on his face. "It's gonna work, Sammy."

Sam nodded, stretching out the length of the bed as Dean pulled a blanket over him.

"You're not going anywhere, right?" His voice sounded small and frightened even to his own ears.

"I'll be right here," Dean assured him.

Sam hated his next words before they were even out of his mouth. "I'm really scared, Dean."

"I know, Sammy." Dean perched on the edge of the bed. "Me too."

"I don't know how many more times I can tell him no, Dean. You have no idea what it's like having him roam around inside your head." He bit his lip, determined not to cry again.

"Sammy, you've always been the strongest person I know. Not to mention the most stubborn." Dean gave a small chuckle. "If anyone can hold Lucifer off, it's you."

Sam's eyes grew heavy as Dean continued to murmur words of encouragement. Groggily Sam reached out for his brother, felt Dean grasp his fingers tightly in his own.

The last thing Sam heard before drifting off to sleep was his brother whispering, "Don't ever think I'm better off without you, Sammy, because that's just not true."

* * *

Dean glanced at his watch. Sam had been sleeping for six hours without incident. That was the longest he'd slept since…….well, Dean was pretty sure that might be the longest continuous stretch of sleep Sam had had in years.

"It appears to be working."

Dean jumped at the sound of Castiel's voice.

"Dammit, Cas, if you don't quit scaring me like that…." Dean let the threat trail off.

"I have something to discuss with you."

"Can't it wait?" Dean rubbed his eyes. "I really would like to get a few hours sleep of my own."

"I wish I understood this need for sleep. It seems like so much wasted time."

"Our bodies get tired, Cas. My body's so damn tired I could probably sleep for a week." He yawned widely to accentuate the point.

"This can't wait that long." Castiel seemed agitated.

"I'm not _really _going to sleep that long. Geez, I need to explain sarcasm to you."

The angel really seemed to be having a hard time containing himself. Dean had never seen Castiel show much emotion but if he didn't know better, he'd think the angel was excited about something.

"Okay, spill it. What is so freaking important that I can't have some sleep first?"

"While I was hunting down the dreamcatcher I heard some rumors."

"Through the angelic grapevine?"

"No, from demons."

"Rumors from demons." Dean sighed. "We know how reliable that always is."

_Case in point: Crowley and his damn idea of the Colt being able to kill Lucifer._

"Well, what did they say?"

"They were talking about my Father."

"And?"

Castiel's face actually lit into a smile. "I know where to find him now, Dean. I know where to find God."


	8. Chapter 8

Dean cracked his eyes open, squinting at the watch on his arm. 2:45. He then realized sunlight was streaming through the window. How had he slept that late into the afternoon? Judging from the mountain of blankets next to him, he wasn't the only one who had slept the day away.

"Sammy? You awake?"

"Nuhhhh."

"Is that a yes?"

A tousled head emerged from beneath the blankets. "What are you doing in my bed?"

"Dude, I fell asleep, so sue me." He glanced up at the dreamcatcher hanging on the wall. "Damn if that thing doesn't work. I slept like a freaking rock."

"Yeah, me too."

"No Lucifer roaming around up there in your empty head last night?"

"Nope." Sam's stomach gave an audible growl. "God, I'm starving! You think Bobby has anything to eat?"

Dean grinned. "Let's go find out."

They tumbled out of bed, making their way to Bobby's kitchen where Bobby and Castiel sat in whispered conversation.

"Well, if it isn't Sleeping Beauty and her fugly sister!" exclaimed Bobby.

Dean quirked his eyebrows at Sam.

"I believe he was talking to Sam," said Castiel.

"Are you saying I'm the fugly sister?" Dean gave Bobby and Sam an incredulous look. "The world really is coming to an end. I think Cas just cracked a joke."

"You boys hungry?" Bobby was already firing up the stove.

"You know it."

"Hey, Cas, what are you guys scheming here?" A little bit of sleep had put Sam in full geek mode. He was flipping through the papers laid out on the kitchen table.

Dean poured himself a cup of coffee, glancing over Castiel's shoulder at the map the angel was perusing.

"Dammit, Cas. Are you still going on about knowing where God is?"

"What?" Sam plunked down hard in the chair across from Castiel. "When did this happen?"

"He heard a rumor while he was out getting the dreamcatcher….from demons, no less." Dean parked himself next to Castiel and reached for the map. "Tennessee, Cas? Really?"

Dean barely remembered what Castiel had been yammering on about last night. He'd been too tired to really care. Now the thought of the angel going to look for God because of what two demons had said gave Dean an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"He's here, Dean. I know it." Castiel's excitement at the thought of finding his father hadn't abated any while Dean had been sleeping.

"So, God is just hanging out on some mountain in Tennessee?" Dean considered it for a moment. "Well, I can't say I blame him for picking Tennessee. I mean those southern girls and their accents? Yeah, that works for me."

Sam gave Dean one of his pissed off grimaces. "Dean, you're talking about God."

Dean rose from the table in order to hide the grin spreading across his face because there was finally another emotion besides despair coming from his brother. Sam could give him bitch face 24/7 and he would never complain again.

"You forget that I don't believe in God."

"Yeah, well, you didn't believe in angels either."

"Because I'd never seen any proof. Now I have." He raised his cup to Castiel. "If someone can show me proof of God, I might believe in him too. Not to mention, I'd like to have a little talk with him about where the hell he's been while the apocalypse has been going on."

Dean heard Sam give a huff and he could picture the eye roll that went with it. Bobby gave him a wink from the stove.

"So, when are we going?"

"You are going to accompany me?" Dean saw the pointed look Castiel gave Sam.

"Sam can stay here."

"What? Dean, I'm not---"

_Okay, maybe not 24/7. The bitch face twice in five minutes was enough for one day._

Dean held out a placating hand. "Before you get your panties in a wad, hear me out."

Sam slumped in his chair, wearing his best petulant look.

"I don't think God is sitting around on some mountain waiting for us but I don't feel comfortable letting Cas go alone."

"You should let me go too, Dean. We already know I can't die. What if something happens to you guys?"

"Okay, first of all, could you let me finish? And secondly, if you can't die, we have to assume I can't either."

Sam obviously hadn't considered that. He motioned for Dean to continue.

"We need to be figuring out our next move. We don't have time to waste. While I'm off with Cas, you and Bobby can be hitting the research hard and heavy."

It was just an excuse really. He didn't want Sam back out there so soon after having such an emotional upheaval but he knew he could never get Sam to stay at Bobby's because of that reason.

"Alright." Sam nodded his agreement. "I don't really like it but it makes sense. How long do you think you'll be gone?"

"As long as it takes Cas to whisk us there and back."

"You said you didn't like to travel that way." Castiel registered surprise.

"Yeah, well, I don't but like I said, we don't have time to waste. I'll just eat plenty of fiber."

That was excuse number two. He didn't want to be away from Sam the amount of time it would take to drive to Tennessee and back. He wasn't looking forward to "angel express" but it would be much faster.

"We'll leave immediately." Castiel pushed himself up from the table.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on." Dean finished the last dregs of his coffee. "Do you mind if I eat a bite first? Maybe get a weapon or two?"

"Oh." Castiel returned to his seat.

Dean shook his head in amusement. He hated to think how disappointed the angel was going to be if they didn't find God. And Dean was thinking the odds weren't in their favor.

* * *

It was almost dark when Dean and Castiel manifested on the mountain.

"Damn, I'll never get used to that."

Dean shook his head to clear the cobwebs that always seemed to gather when Castiel zapped him somewhere. Castiel was already trudging off into the woods.

"Cas, wait!" Dean hissed.

The feeling of foreboding had returned. God wasn't on this mountain but something else certainly was. Dean hurried after the angel, catching sight of him just as Castiel disappeared behind a wall of flame. Dean dodged behind a tree.

"No need to hide, Dean." Lucifer's silky smooth voice floated through the night. "I already saw you."

Dean's heart hammered in his chest. _What the hell have we walked into?_

"I must admit, I am pleasantly surprised at this turn of events. I had my demons plant false information in hopes of luring Castiel away from you. I never dreamed it would be a twofer."

Dean finally stepped out from behind the tree. "Well, you know, Cas has picked up this bad habit of getting trapped in holy fire so I can't let him go anywhere by himself."

Lucifer chuckled. "I like you, Dean. It's a shame really."

"What? That I'm not your type? I'd never say yes to you either you son of a bitch."

"No, it's a shame that I'm going to kill you." Lucifer eyes gleamed manically in the firelight.

"Hate to burst your bubble, Satan, but in case you haven't heard, the angels aren't going to let me die."

Dean glanced at Castiel. The angel was trapped, with no way out. For once Dean desperately wished Zachariah would show up with his fat, smug face and whisk them both out of harm's way. Lucifer might not be able to kill him but he was pretty damn sure he would be able to hurt him.

"Dean, Dean." Lucifer shook his head. "Someone is badly misinformed. Why do you think I went to all the trouble in Carthage to bring forth Death?"

Dean's insides turned to ice. He could feel a malevolent presence hovering just out of sight. Two red eyes glowed in the darkness behind Lucifer's left shoulder and then the force was upon him before he had time to breath. He heard Castiel call his name as he was thrown over the side of the mountain.

* * *

**A/N: Just in case you're wondering: Yeah, I am from Tennessee. :)**


	9. Chapter 9

Dean risked opening his eyes a fraction of an inch, pressing his lips together against an involuntary moan. He didn't know where Death had disappeared to after using him for shot put practice and he really didn't want to find out. Luckily for him there was a precipice on the mountainside, unluckily for him it wasn't nearly as close as he had needed it to be. Even without looking up the face of the mountain he realized he'd fallen a long way by the excruciating pain coursing through his body.

When he was sure nothing was occupying the precipice with him, Dean fully opened his eyes and attempted to pull himself into a sitting position. It took everything he had not to scream. His body twisted in mind numbing agony, every nerve on fire. He fell back against the ground, panting heavily, sweat drenching his brow.

_Sammy, I'm sorry. I think I'm done for this time._

A tear spilled from his eye, mingling with the blood on his face. He shouldn't have left Sam. God, how stupid could he have been? He'd known this was a bad idea, known the information Cas had received was probably bogus. He should have let the angel taken care of it by himself. A pang of guilt shot through him.

_You know better than that Winchester. You could never throw a friend to the wolves. It's just not in you._

Yeah, well, dammit, now he was going to leave his brother alone because of it.

He tried once more to move, just to roll over, but he could no longer feel his legs. He gazed up into the starlit night, spotted a falling star and muttered a wish.

_Please let me get back to Sammy._

* * *

Castiel screamed Dean's name as the eldest Winchester plummeted over the side of the mountain. Something inside him twisted and he thought he might be experiencing what humans called heartache. There was no possible way for anyone to survive a fall of that magnitude. Dean was gone but he still had the youngest Winchester to protect.

Castiel had already seen what Sam had been through with Lucifer tormenting him night after night. He also knew the lengths Dean would go to in order to save his brother. Castiel would take up that mantle. He would protect Sam with his life. It was the least he could do for the human who had taught him so much. The one human who actually considered Castiel more than just an angel, he was also a friend.

"I wonder what is going through your mind right now, Castiel." Lucifer was only inches from him, taunting him from just beyond the flames.

"I'm thinking about how I'm going to kill you."

"You have spent way too much time with Dean Winchester. You almost sound like him."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Castiel could see Death had taken up residence in the shadows once again. He wondered if Lucifer would kill him or if he'd have Death do it. Either way, it wasn't going to be enjoyable nor was it likely to be over quickly. Lucifer was going to make him suffer.

Castiel glanced toward the side of the mountain. Even though he knew Dean was most certainly dead, Castiel still kept expecting him to come storming over the edge, guns blazing. He almost wished he'd never carved the Enochian sigils into the brother's ribs. Then he could have been positive of Dean's fate.

"Castiel, I wanted to lure you here, away from the Winchesters to try and make you see reason. Killing Michael's vessel was in the plan but I had no idea it would happen tonight. I never dreamed Dean would desert his brother."

"He didn't desert his brother. Dean would never do that."

"Defending him even after he's dead. That's very…..noble." Lucifer circled the fire. "You can still join me, brother. I have a place for you in my army."

"I am not your brother." Castiel vehemently spat out the words.

"You do realize if you don't join me, I will have to kill you." Lucifer gave him a curious stare. "What is it about the Winchesters? Why do they command such loyalty?"

"You would never understand and I can't begin to explain." Castiel wasn't even sure he understood it himself.

"Very well. I am sorry it had to come to this, Castiel."

Castiel hadn't been afraid of many things in his hundreds of years as an angel but he was terrified at the thought of dying and leaving Sam Winchester alone to face the apocalypse. Sam was strong but on his own, without his brother, he would relent. He would have nothing left to live for.

_Please Father._

A bolt of lightning splintered the sky, thunder roared across the mountain range and rain began to pour. Lucifer whirled around in complete surprise. The fire imprisoning Castiel sputtered out and while the prince of darkness had his back turned, Castiel pulled a Dean Winchester and got the hell out of Dodge.

* * *

The rain pelted mercilessly against Dean's broken body. The only movement he could muster was covering his face with the crook of his arm and even that elicited an anguished cry. His breath was coming in labored gasps and there had been a few times it wouldn't come at all.

He wasn't really afraid of dying. He'd done it so many times already it was almost a joke. What waited for him afterwards frightened him but even that wasn't as bad as the thought of leaving Sammy alone. His brother had just fought his way back from the brink of insanity and Dean was pretty sure it wouldn't take much to push him over the edge again.

_I tried to protect you, Sammy. So sorry, so sorry._

Dean felt a cool hand brush gently against his face. He struggled to open his eyes but they weren't cooperating. He didn't think anything on his body was functioning anymore. Strong arms encircled him.

"S'mmy?"

"It's me Dean."

"Cas?" His foggy mind tried to make sense of what was happening.

"I've got you."

"How…..?" He couldn't find the strength to finish the sentence.

"The rain put out the fire."

"Thas g'd, Cas."

"Tell me again how you think God isn't on this mountain, Dean. He just saved both our asses."

A smile flitted across Dean's lips. _Damn angel has picked up my bad habits._

Dean felt himself being lifted up and heard the sound of…..wings?

"D'n like flyin," Dean slurred as everything around him went black.

* * *

Sam and Bobby had books piled so high around them, if someone had come through the door they would never have seen the two heads bent together, studying an ancient text.

Sam glanced at his watch. "Shouldn't Dean and Cas be back by now?"

"They've only been gone a few hours, Sam." Bobby reassured him. "I'm sure they'll be back anytime."

As if waiting for a cue, Sam heard Castiel shout from the hallway. He jumped up, the chair he was sitting in clattered to the floor. When he reached the hall, Sam came to a dead stop. Castiel was cradling Dean in his arms. There was no sign of life from his brother.

"No, no, no, no."

Sam stumbled toward the angel, holding his arms out to receive his brother, the only thing in this world that had kept him going for the last few years.

"He can't die, Cas. The angels won't let him." Sam's voice was pleading. "Please don't let him die."

"Lucifer set a trap and we walked right into it. Death was there."

"What does that mean?"

"Lucifer brought forth Death so he could kill Michael's vessel."

Dean's head lolled against his shoulder and Sam collapsed to the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around the only lifeline he had. He shook his brother, calling his name repeatedly.

"He needs medical attention." Castiel looked helplessly at Bobby. "I didn't know what to do."

"Sam, I think we need to let Cas take Dean to the nearest hospital. He can get him there faster. We can follow right behind them."

"I need to stay with him," Sam begged. "Can you take us both?"

Cas nodded. "Just tell me where the hospital is."

* * *

When they arrived at the hospital, Dean opened his eyes long enough to force a smile for his sobbing brother and to demand that Castiel not leave Sam alone before he was whisked away to surgery. Bobby showed up shortly afterwards, also keeping close watch on the youngest Winchester.

Sam paced the floor of the waiting room, alternating between sobbing and cursing.

"Sam, son, why don't you sit a spell?" Bobby coaxed him. "You're going to wear yourself out, not to mention the floor."

Sam acquiesced for only a moment before jumping back into motion. "I've got to get some air. I feel like I'm suffocating in here."

He headed for the door, whirling when Castiel started to follow. "I don't need a babysitter, Cas."

"I promised your brother."

"I'm only going outside. Can't I have one damn minute to myself?" Tears were shining in the youngest Winchester's dark eyes.

Castiel had barely nodded his consent before Sam fled the room. He stood there for a moment and then followed.

"Where are you going?" asked Bobby.

"He wanted a minute. I gave him that. Now I'm going to keep my promise."

* * *

**A/N: Well, here's another chapter I struggled with. I'm beginning to think I should have ended this two chapters ago but too late now! There should be one more chapter, possibly two and I hope to have it done by Thursday. Thanks for hanging in there!**


	10. Chapter 10

Sam was on his way outside when he noticed the small hospital chapel. Peering around the edge of the door and finding the room empty, he slumped into the nearest pew.

He had only been there a moment when the door opened behind him. When nobody sat down, Sam turned to find Castiel standing guard, seemingly more agitated than was his normal demeanor.

"You might as well sit, Cas."

"I have no need to sit."

"If you insist on hovering over me it will make me less uncomfortable if you sit."

"Very well."

Castiel perched on the bench beside him and Sam might have laughed if his heart hadn't been so heavy. No one but Castiel could make the act of sitting seem so awkward.

From the corner of his eye, Sam noticed the angel pulling at a lose thread on the sleeve of his trenchcoat.

"Something on your mind, Cas?"

"Why do you ask?" The thread continued to unravel.

"You seemed a little, um, preoccupied." Sam dug in his pocket, extracting a knife. Reaching over he cut off the offending piece of string.

"Are you praying?"

The question caught Sam off guard. "You mean, was I praying before you interrupted me?"

Castiel nodded, rubbing his hands against his knees in a nervous gesture.

_He's really picking up human traits. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was upset._

"I can't pray, Cas." Sam shuffled his feet, embarrassed at the confession.

"But you used to?"

"Not in a long time."

"What made you stop?" Castiel was studying him intently with his icy gaze.

"Do you know me, Cas? Hello, demon blood! Started the apocalypse, trusted a demon, betrayed my brother. Should I go on? Wouldn't it be a little presumptuous to assume God would listen to anything I have to say?" Sam's voice became soft. "Even if it's just to ask him to save my brother?"

"Do you know the story of the apostle Paul?"

Sam searched his mind for the somewhat familiar tale. "I think so."

"His name wasn't always Paul, you know. He started out as Saul and he committed horrible acts against God's followers, even having them murdered for their beliefs."

Sam sat in silence, unsure where the angel was going with his impromptu bible lesson.

"Do you know he's considered a saint now?"

"Should I be taking notes?"

"Sam, what I'm telling you is one of the most notorious bad guys in the history of the world turned into one of the most fervent followers of God. If he can be forgiven, why do you think you can't?"

Sam lowered his eyes, studying his hands. "Because I can't forgive myself."

"Dean has forgiven you."

"How do you know?"

"I can see into his heart."

Sam's stomach was in knots. He wanted nothing more than to be forgiven by his brother, to have that unwavering trust again. But he had destroyed it the day he'd turned his back on Dean and left him on that motel room floor. And although Dean was trying, it was never going to be the same. If Dean died, it would always be because of Sam and the horrible events he had set into motion and Sam didn't know how he was supposed to live with that. It was too much.

Sam swallowed hard. "I thought we were hidden from all angels."

"You are. But when you're standing right in front of me, I can see what you're feeling. I know you loathe yourself for the things you've done. I warned Dean of your despair the night Jo and Ellen died. I also know how your brother feels about you, how much he wants you to forgive yourself. And I also know how much of his own pain he has pushed aside while trying to get through to you these last few weeks."

Sam immediately felt guilty. Dean had been suffering just as much, if not more, than he had. But as usual, he ignored his own feelings in favor of Sam's.

_What kind of brother am I?_

"I am not telling you these things to make you feel worse."

"Then why are you telling me?"

"So you will be aware. Dean cannot shoulder this burden alone."

"Neither can I." Sam twisted his hands in his lap. "What if he doesn't make it? I can't do this without him, Cas. I can't. He's the only reason I've held on this long."

"Then perhaps you should start praying."

"How can you be so sure God is even out there?"

"Because I know what I saw on that mountain. It isn't my place to question why or how my Father does things. It's only for me to obey."

Sam gave a small chuckle. "You and Dean are more alike than you know."

Castiel smiled. "So I've been told."

* * *

Castiel placed his hand on the youngest Winchester's shoulder as Sam bowed his head, awkwardly folding his hands and resting his elbows on his knees. Castiel assumed the boy would pray in silence but after clearing his throat, Sam began to pray out loud.

"Um, God, I know I haven't talked to you in awhile…."

Sam paused and Castiel squeezed his shoulder in what he hoped was a sign of reassurance.

"We need your help, God. Dean needs your help. My brother has given everything he has to this fight. He's always sacrificed himself for everyone, regardless of who they were and he's always done everything he could for me."

Sam's voice was thick with tears.

"He's been more than my brother. He's been my mother, my father, my protector and best friend. I don't know what's going to happen, God, but I know I can't do this without him so can you please, wherever you are, please take a minute to consider my brother. He needs you. And I know he doesn't really believe in you, but I do and I really hope it's enough for the both of us. Um, that's all, I guess."

"Amen." Castiel whispered.

"Oh, yeah, uh, amen."

Sam was quiet for a moment longer and then asked "Do you think he heard me?"

Castiel pulled Dean's amulet from his coat pocket and held it out to the youngest Winchester. Sam gave him a questioning stare but grasped the amulet in his hand. He let it go with a surprised yelp.

"It's hot."

"Yes."

"Does this mean……"

"I think it means God heard you and he's closer than we think."

Sam's phone began to ring. He fished it out of his jeans while Castiel carefully placed the amulet back in his pocket. When Sam ended the call, his eyes were glistening with barely restrained tears.

"That was Bobby. He said Dean's out of surgery and they think he's going to be alright. Said the doctors are baffled."

Sam's face lit into a grin, the first one Castiel could remember seeing in a long time.

"God's really here, isn't he?"

"Yes, Sam, I believe he is."

* * *

**A/N: One more to go! Probably just a very short one, more like an epilogue.**


	11. Chapter 11

**This is it! The last chapter!**

* * *

It had been six weeks since the incident in Tennessee. Dean had almost fully recovered from his injuries although he was still favoring his right leg. He had begun his own kind of personal therapy after returning to Bobby's. He rose early every morning, going for a slow jog around the yard, zigzagging between cars as he went. This was followed by a few sets of crunches, push-ups and a little target practice. He didn't want to get soft just because he was out of commission for awhile. There was still an apocalypse going on.

Sam had been fussing over him like a mother hen, Bobby had been stuffing him full of home cooking and Castiel was continually dropping in to check on his progress. Dean appreciated all the attention but quite honestly, he was starting to feel smothered. He was ready for a job. Something a couple of months ago, he would have never thought possible.

Sam was doing much better than he had been a few weeks ago but Dean knew his brother would always be haunted by the fact he was Lucifer's vessel. At least the dreamcatcher still worked. As long as Sam didn't drift off to sleep away from it, his dreams were Satan free. Castiel had told Dean what saved his life. Dean, as usual, was hard-pressed to believe it but Sam's faith appeared to be renewed although nothing seemed able to take the guilt from his eyes.

As Dean was returning from one of his jogs, loading up his gun to shoot a few rounds he heard Sam calling for him from the house. He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans, limping up the back porch stairs.

_Damn leg. When was it going to quit that?_

He peered around the edge of the back door.

"Sammy?"

The house seemed unnaturally quiet.

_Dammit, where'd they go?_

He stepped cautiously into the kitchen, placing his fingers on the handle of his gun, just in case. Slowly he made his way toward the den. He could see the shadow of a person stretching across the floor but there were still no sounds. As he pulled his gun, ready to fire, Sam poked his head around the corner, threw a handful of confetti at him and blew a noisemaker in his face.

"Holy crap, Sam! I almost blew your head off!" Dean leaned weakly against the wall, stowing the gun away.

Sam shrugged, handing Dean a party hat. "Wouldn't matter. I can't die."

"Not funny." Dean stared at the hat in his hand. "What the hell is this?"

"A party hat."

"Thank you Captain Obvious. I meant, what's it for?"

Sam motioned for Dean to follow him into the den. He entered the room to a chorus of "Surprise!"

Dean gaped at the scene before him, stunned into silence. A huge cake with the words "Happy Birthday Dean", along with a five gallon bucket of his favorite ice cream, was laid out on Bobby's desk. But the most astonishing thing was Castiel, standing there with a party hat strapped crookedly to his head, holding a noisemaker in his hand.

In that one moment everything Dean had been repressing for months came crashing down around him and he fled from the room.

* * *

Dean knew it was only a matter of time until Sam came hunting for him. He slumped on Bobby's work bench, his face buried in his hands. It was just too much. Why should he be celebrating a birthday when so many people had died? It wasn't fair.

He felt a shift on the bench and then a warm shoulder was pressed up close to his. He began to tremble uncontrollably, struggling to hold back the tears.

_God, Sammy, go away. If you give me those puppy dog eyes, I'll totally lose it._

"Dude, you okay?"

Sam's voice was soft, tentative and despite his best efforts a choked sob escaped Dean's throat.

"Dean, I'm sorry."

Dean felt Sam's arms around him and for a moment he leaned into the embrace, giving himself over wholly to the sorrow he had felt ever since the night Jo and Ellen had sacrificed themselves. Then he gently shrugged his brother away.

"You have to stop it, Sam."

"Stop what?" Confusion was written across Sam's face.

"The apologizing for everything, the guilt trip you've been taking. Not everything is your fault, Sammy. You've got to give yourself a break."

Sam shook his head. "I can't, Dean. I can't forget what I've done."

"Dammit, Sam, I'm not asking you to forget anything. How the hell are we supposed to forget this? I just want you to forgive yourself."

"I'm not….."

Dean cut him off. "Not what? Not worthy? Is that what you think? Cas told me about your little prayer session in the hospital. Can you tell me why God would answer the prayers of an unworthy soul?"

Sam's brow furrowed. "I never thought of it that way."

"Yeah, well, that's why I'm the big brother."

"Sure, whatever."

"So, I've got a question for you."

"What's that?"

"How the hell did you talk Cas into wearing a party hat?"

Sam laughed and Dean knew the moment was over but there was something in Sam's eyes Dean hadn't seen there in a long time. Something called hope.

* * *

**A/N: I really want to thank everyone who has stuck with this story and to everyone who has favorited it, put it on alert and most especially to those of you who have reviewed. I appreciate all the encouraging words. I must admit I got a bit emotional finishing this one. This is the longest story I've ever finished in my entire life (and I'm old, peeps). Thanks to Supernatural I am fulfilling a childhood dream: writing for other people's enjoyment (well, and mine too). Okay, chick flick moment over. Thanks guys!**


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